


Promise Behind The Close Door

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Hilda Ackerman, which is my OC for Rivetra daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3548774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has promised to come back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise Behind The Close Door

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rivetra Week 2015 with a prompt: vow. Also, this is inspired by a one-shot manga which I forgot the title, if you recognize it please let me know!

They run out of hot chocolate.

And Hilda can only imagine the warmth between her hands when she cups the mug, the sweet taste in her tongue, and the smell of chocolate.

There is nothing she can do except to text her mother, asking if she could buy some on her way home. Which is, actually, about eight hours from now.

It is ten in the morning, when someone knocks on the door.

Hilda glances at the calendar hanging on their wall. December 24th. She manages to keep a smile on her face. _He_ is here.

She walks to the front door, standing on her tiptoes—for a 10 years old girl, she is quite smaller than girls her age—to open the lock.

And a man, with hair as dark as hers, narrows his eyes at her.

"What took you so long to open the door?"

"Well, nice to see you too, _Dad_.”

Her father rolls his eyes; it is certain he will not win this. His daughter is too much like him. He hands her a brown paper bag instead.

This time, it is _Hilda_ narrowing her eyes at him in a suspicious look. But she still opens it.

"How do you know we run out of hot chocolate?"

"Lucky guess." He replies, as he steps inside of the apartment, hanging his coat and scarf on the hooks behind the door. Hilda follows behind, after closing the door.

"Is she working?" He asks, making himself comfortable on the couch.

"Yeah," Hilda takes two mugs from the cupboard. Their apartment is small; the living room and the kitchen is literally in one room. No need to shout, because her father is only a feet away.

"It’s Christmas Eve, for God’s sake."

"Well you didn’t come back here on Christmas Eve. So you two are…" Her voice trails off, thinking hard about the right word.

"Even. We are even."

"Right." Hilda is about standing in front of the stove, when he calls out.

"What are you doing? Can you even use it?"

"I’m 10 years old, Dad,"

"Still," she can hear him standing up and walking toward her. "Here, let me help you."

"I just want to make hot chocolate, I’ve done this a thousand times."

"Let me do this, Hilda, okay?"

There’s something in his voice that makes her let him—later, she learns it was _sincerity_ and _gentleness_ —and she takes his seat on the couch.

"You are… how old are you, Hilda?"

"10." She answers. "Why do you never remember how old your daughter is?"

He does not answer, but she can feel him getting uneasy; a guilt for not seeing his daughter growing up.

A guilt for seeing his daughter only once a year.

"Here," Levi hands her the mug as he sits down.

"Thank you." He notices both of her hands are small cupping the mug.

The phone rings, _Hilda’s_ cellphone. Levi watches in amazement as Hilda answers the call. He recognizes the voice from the other side. He always has, always does. It is Petra’s.

"Yes, Mom, I’m home—where should I be anyway?"

Levi doesn’t know if he should be glad because her daughter gets her sassness from him.

"Yes, Mom. Love you too. See you soon."

"What did she say?" He asks.

“ _Hilda, are you home? Have you eaten anything today? You’re not feeling cold are you?_ " She replies in a perfect tone of her mother’s with a same facial expression Levi can imagine Petra making that face while talking with Hilda on the phone.

"Either she’s worried, or you’re not trustworthy."

"She wasn’t always like that before." She mumbles.

He pretends not to hear her.

"And _you_ are the one being untrustworthy, Dad, when you said you’d buy the cake when it turned out you didn’t even come home that day.”

"Ooh, big words."

Truth is: Levi doesn’t want to talk about it.

Hilda doesn’t say anything later, and the awkwardness soon follows caused by the silence between the father and the daughter as they had not seen each other for 364 days.

Levi clears his throat. “How was school?”

"Winter breaks."

"Right."

Another silence.

Hilda reaches for the remote and turns on the TV before it becomes more unbearable.

There are many things Levi wants to ask: _How is she? How are they? How can they live in this small apartment, compared to the house they used to live in, back when they were an “us”? How are they keeping up with things? How is Petra? Is she working too hard even on Christmas Eve?_

And:

_Has Petra found someone new?_

"Mom’s too busy with works, you know." Hilda says all of sudden, as if he has been saying those out loud. (Which is no surprise, he just has that kind of habit.)

"Yeah," is all he can come up with.

"Hey, Dad, can I come to your place instead, sometimes? I can take the bus. I know which bus I should take and all. Mom’s allowed me to take the bus to the library in the city."

Levi doesn’t even hesitate before answering, “No.” He can feel his daughter will be whining, but to his surprise, she doesn’t. She just asks in her quiet tone.

"Why?"

He thinks for a moment: he should be the understanding parent, the one who will give answers to anything his daughter may ask, especially to cover the fact he is not there everyday for her, while Petra is.

"Because it’s too far away."

So much to be the understanding parent.

"Like, reaaally far away? Out of town?"

"Yeah."

"You can’t even come here on summer?"

"It’s impossible."

"Huh." She sips her hot chocolate.

"Don’t you have to take a nap?"

"I’m 10 and we don’t need to take a nap."

Levi would give everything to keep up the conversation with Hilda, but he has a reputation of not being the favorite of 10 years old children.

"Dad, there’s this boy in my class named Shane and he kept on pulling my ponytail."

"I think he likes you."

(Although an idea of Hilda having been liked by a boy is not something Levi would like.)

"But, seriously? Pulling a girl’s ponytail isn’t something a boy should do if he likes a girl. I don’t like him."

"You don’t have to. If he keeps annoying the shit out of you, just report him to the teacher, or your mother. Wait, does Petra even know about it?"

"Not really. Mom’s been too busy these days I hardly see her."

And the guilt is there once more. He feels even worse for leaving them both, but did he have any choice?

And as if it was giving Hilda an idea to talk everything she can’t talk to her mother—but hey, her father is here—she starts talking about everything happening in her life during the 364 days when Levi wasn’t there.

Like when Petra took the night shift, Hilda was being accompanied—babysat, Levi has corrected to himself—by Mikasa, Levi’s niece. And how Mikasa had turned those nights into some crazy adventures; breakfast for dinner, phone calls pranks, telling each other scary stories.

Or how the neighbor, the Jaeger family, is so nice to Petra and Hilda. Mrs. Jaeger has often made some cookies and cakes for them, which is often brought by Eren, the only child in the family, who is also Mikasa’s age.

(And judging from what Hilda was saying, Levi can tell that Eren has a crush on Mikasa, as he only brings cupcakes or cookies whenever Mikasa is around. What a creep.)

Hilda is excited and engrossed in the story of her life and Levi can’t help but smiling knowing his daughter is okay without him.

Even when he wasn’t there to see her growing to be whatever she is now.

—

She has fallen asleep on the couch, and Levi has brought the quilt from her bedroom.

With one hand on the handle, he sneaks a glance toward Hilda.

So peaceful, so relaxed, he is glad he can make time to see her.

"Why didn’t you wake me?" She sits up and rubs her eyes, pushing the sleepiness away.

"You still need to sleep, Hilda, I didn’t want to wake you."

"Can’t you even stay? Until Mom’s home?" She starts walking toward him, and he realizes he has never held her.

"I can’t."

She stops when she’s in front of him, head tilting up to look at him and he is again reminded of the resemblance of Petra in Hilda’s face; those eyes, those expression she makes…

He squints to meet her eyes.

"I’ll see you again next year, okay? Promise?" He holds up his pinky finger to which Hilda narrows her eyes at.

"I don’t do pinky swear," is what she says, but she does it anyway.

He ruffles his hand through her hair before standing up, and this time, ready to leave her behind. Again.

"Oh and tell your mother—Petra," he opens the door, without looking at Hilda. "I’m sorry I couldn’t come home that day. I couldn’t."

"Hey, Dad," she whispers, unsure if he can hear it or not, but he stops. "Happy early birthday."

She can hear his smile. “Thanks, Hilda.”

The door’s closed. He is gone.

Hilda is still standing in front of the door, hoping that somehow, the door will be creaked open and her father will be the one standing there.

She truly misses him, he just has no idea. She misses him when she comes home to find the apartment is empty. She misses him when she sees Mikasa. She misses him when she hears her mother come home late at midnight. She misses him when she hears her mother crying in her room, when Petra thinks Hilda’s already asleep.

But the feeling started when he didn’t come home that day, and the following phone call to her mother, stating her father had been in an accident.

_But Dad’s birthday is tomorrow…_ was all she could think of when she was left with another Ackerman, while Petra had gone to the hospital.

A few hours later, Hilda was asleep on Mikasa’s bed when Petra had come, hugging her and crying and burying her face in Hilda’s hair, waking her up. It terrified her. She had never seen her mother crying before. She was the child, she was the one who should be crying when she fell down, she should be crying whenever something hurts, and her mother would come and kiss it better. Hilda wanted to kiss her mother to make everything better, but she had no idea what caused her pain.

Back then, she just didn’t understand.

Now, she knows the pain her mother has been feeling as she keeps staring at the door.

Her father _does_ come back, but he only does on Christmas Eve, and he only does to meet Hilda. She thinks he’s being unfair: she knows how much her mother misses him and wants to see him.

* * *

But he has the promise to come back next year, and maybe, _maybe_ he can meet her mother and they will become a them again.


End file.
